Don't Stop Believing
by cloudwalk
Summary: A few years after Deathly Hallows, ignoring the epilogue. Hermione and Draco are both at dead ends in their lives, searching for new beginnings when they encounter each other on a midnight train "goin' anywhere". DM/HG, based on Journey/Glee's song.
1. Chapter 1

_Just a small town girl_

_Livin' in a lonely world_

_She took the midnight train goin' anywhere_

Hermione Granger wasn't of the opinion that the Ministry was going to think much of her leaving her high-end apartment in the dead of the night. In fact, she could pretty much imagine what Kingsley Shacklebolt would say if he saw her now: one hand on the doorknob, the other clutching her wand, and a rather small suitcase lying at her feet. All in all, she bore a great look of secrecy.

"_Lumos_," she whispered, taking one last look at her surroundings. She wasn't sure when she'd be back, but it wouldn't be soon- she'd had enough. Enough of waking up alone to clean cream sheets, enough of pulling on standard Ministry robes before Apparating to work, enough of sympathetic stares and the whingy whining of Lavender at work. "You don't know what you're missing, Hermione." "Honestly, he's the best paid Quidditch player around!" "Chudley Cannons are going to win the League this year, Granger, and then you'll be sorry." Sorry? Didn't anybody know she was better off without Ron Weasley?

"I do, but I certainly don't think running away's a good compensation for it," said a voice. Hermione spun round, aiming her wand instinctively at the source.

"Oh, it's you," Hermione said, half-relieved, half-annoyed. She stowed her wand in her jeans pocket and turned back to the door, picking up her suitcase. "_Nox_. Go back to sleep, Ginny."

"I thought you'd have learnt not to put your wand there," Ginny continued humourlessly, though a slight smile flickered where the dim light of outside streetlamps fell on her face. "Better wizards have lost buttocks, you know! But anyway, I'm not going back to sleep. Not until you do."

"I've told you, Ginny," Hermione replied wearily, "I can't stay here any longer. I need a break. The Malfoy case is making the workload pile up and all Lavender does is whinge. Plus…" She trailed off, remembering who she was talking to. Sometimes, living with one's ex-boyfriend's sister was hard, even if she happened to be your best friend.

"Plus, you hate how everyone keeps telling you to get Ron back. I know," Ginny said. "Come away with Harry and I for the summer, Hermione. He's promised a good getaway, something with plenty of history and enough wine to get Hagrid drunk. Running away in the middle of the night's not going to do any good. What is it you're planning to do, anyway?"

"I-" Hermione stopped. She didn't want anybody knowing of her plans, not even her parents. At the thought of them, her stomach seemed to contract. She'd visited them just a few months ago, in the small town which had been her home before Hogwarts. They knew all about Ron, of course- when the Daily Prophet started spreading rumours about their relationship, she'd called her parents straightaway to clarify. But she knew they'd go bonkers if she told them about this. Not this time. "Don't worry about me, Ginny. Please? I'll be fine. Take care of Crookshanks."

Ginny nodded, her dark red locks shaking in the breeze. "I will." And so, she watched her best friend step out into the wild night, and close the door behind her.

_Just a city boy_

_Born and raised in South Detriot_

_He took the midnight train goin' anywhere_

Draco Malfoy blasted pebbles with his wand aimlessly as he walked down the garden path. Night had fallen, but generations before him, the Malfoys had enchanted glowing serpents to hover in the air at suggestive spots, lighting the way around the Manor's expansive gardens. Serpents. Draco scowled up at the lights and kicked a particularly large pebble at his feet. He wasn't scared of being heard; everybody else, from his parents to the house-elves, slept too far away to hear his agonizing. Not that they ever bothered, anyway. He scowled again.

Blast being a Malfoy! Blast that the only time he got to think was at night, when the sky fell dark and he was free from incessant gossip and slander. True, his parents were being Watched by the Ministry, to be called up for an extensive Hearing sometime that week. The tabloids were all over their downfall; the Daily Prophet seemed eager for news of how Draco, the young heir, was taking it. He had been freed from all charges, given his age at the time of offence, and an anonymous defence that Kingsley Shacklebolt accepted immediately. Nobody told, but Draco guessed it was Harry Potter. The Boy who lived… "I didn't need saving," Draco muttered.

He was a Malfoy, damn it, didn't anybody understand? The name of Malfoy didn't command as much respect as it used to. Heavens knew his father hated it, but nobody knew about Draco. He was tired of people slinking into the house late at night, or walking into the Library, only to see Disillusion Charms being removed and realize that he'd stumbled into a secret meeting of Death Eaters. Bellatrix was gone, and a couple others had either been killed or put into Azkaban the moment the War was over, but he knew it wasn't over in the others' hearts. In his parents'.

He needed space. Space from the papers, from his parents, from Astoria Greengrass, who kept calling and calling even when he'd told the house-elf to send her away.

And so here he was. Draco stared up at the imposing black gates and glanced back once at the silent Manor before passing through them. His Disillusion Charm had been cast, his suitcase packed- he was on his way. No one could stop him now.


	2. Chapter 2

_A singer in a smoky room_

_The smell of wine and cheap perfume_

_For a smile they can share the night_

_It goes on and on and on and on_

It's meaningless, he told himself, it's over now… But his hand reached out involuntarily and touched the cool brick wall, and before he could stop himself, Draco Malfoy leant his forehead against the entrance to Platform 9 ¾.

It felt wholesome, soothing, comforting in a myriad of ways he hadn't expected. He didn't know why he had chosen to Apparate to King's Cross, of all places. He had wanted to avoid this place so badly after that night. He had chosen to push it out of his mind every time it ever came close. It meant too much, hurt too much.

"Excuse me, sir, do you need help?"

Draco pulled quickly back and stared at the concerned conductor. He'd seen those men before, in their pressed, neat uniforms and stern expressions. He'd heard how they laughed at Mudbloods who didn't know how to get to the train. But he'd never actually spoken to one of them before. Hadn't needed to, anyway- and still didn't. "No, I don't," he replied sharply. He was sorry for his display of weakness. It was over now…

"You sure? You looked pretty troubled then." The conductor was worried, he could tell that from his voice. _I don't need your pity_, he thought bitterly.

"I don't need your help," he stressed. To make his point, he picked up his suitcase and walked briskly off in the opposite direction. He'd never been beyond the platforms before; catching the train to Hogwarts was the only time the Malfoys ventured into the Muggle world. Draco didn't know what to make of it. He needed somewhere to assert control again, and regain his composure after that brief slip-up. He chose a little café, the first one that turned up, and sidled inside.

The first thing he noticed was that the café- or whatever it was- was smoky, in a choking way that made him numb. The smells of wine and cheap perfume wafted up and wrapped their fumes around him, coiling their tendrils so alluringly he couldn't get away. The sounds of a drunk trying and forgetting the lyrics of an unfamiliar song in the background filled his ears. If there was any better introduction to the Muggle world, Draco thought, with a semblance of his former cynicism, he had yet to see it.

Eager for some quiet, he walked all the way to the back and saw a booth tucked in the corner. Secluded, private thinking space, to sort out the mess he was in. _Perfect_. He called for some wine from a passing waitress and slid into the seat.

But he was not alone.

"What are you doing here?"

"Granger?" His heart jumped out of his chest at the sight of the brunette before him. Peering close he realized she was not as unfamiliar as he'd first thought; for one, the bag of books was gone, but her shoulders were still slumped, her eyes betraying a state of weariness. _Her hair could do with some brushing, too, _he thought, but at the same time wondered why this had all come together. The platform, and now her.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the Manor? I thought the Ministry would keep a better Watch than this," she said, sounding, despite the weariness, like her old self- bossy know-it-all. "The case starts in a week. If you aren't present-"

"And what would you know about it?" he interrupted. Draco was highly annoyed. He had come here, _here_, to a stinky Muggle bar, for some thinking, some reflection, some getting his thing back together. Not for a lecture. And certainly not from _her_. "Prosecuting panel, aren't you, such _pals _with Kingsley Shacklebolt!"

"Don't hate me because I've got what you lost, Malfoy," she said quietly.

He looked down at the table, suddenly ashamed. He had spoken out at a Mudblood… let his feelings show, let his guard down. He could never take it back, now, never pretend nothing happened. He reassumed an expression of cold indifference, one he had accustomed to, and observed the various markings in the worn wooden table.

_Oh, gosh, _Hermione thought, looking at him across the table. She had tensed up when he first arrived, sidling into her booth like it was nobody's business. She hadn't seen him since that night; hadn't wanted to, in any case. Yet now she thought she knew how he felt, thought he would know how _she _felt, too; as she watched his expression go from blazing to cool she thought she knew what ran through his mind. _And now I've made him angry. How do I get out of this? _She wondered. She clutched a ticket in her hand for the last train out; to where, she didn't care, but it was important she get on it. She needed some peace in her life, and at the same time an adventure of sorts, to make her feel like life was worth it again.

"Wine?"

Draco looked up and watched as the waitress poured dull-coloured wine into a glass that had seen better days, and set the bottle on the table. She looked at him under her eyelashes. "That'll be ten, Mister."

"A…" He realized then, with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he didn't have a single bit of Muggle money on him. How could he have been so foolish? Of course they wouldn't accept his velvet bags of Galleons and Sickles.

"I'll get this," came a small voice from the corner, and he saw her slight hand push an unfamiliar note across the table at the waitress. "Keep the change." The waitress glared, and Draco hid the chuckle that surfaced. It was an odd situation, them both here, and she paying for him. But it felt strangely good to be switching the odds, for once. To be playing a role he hadn't played before, at least a million times.

Hermione smiled tentatively across the table, and for a split second she thought she saw the glimmer of a smile in return.

I edited the ending because I felt it didn't flow right with the future development of the story. Their bonding came too soon. (Also, I removed the adjective "fair" from 'her slight fair hand push an unfamilair note'. But that's minor.) However, the unedited ending is below, for those who'd care to read it:

He let the slightest glimmer of a smile show as the waitress stalked away. "Thanks."

"No problem."

There was a slight, tense silence, then, to his utter surprise because it didn't feel like the time nor place to do it, they started laughing together, loudly and raucously, so hard he couldn't stop. His mind was blank, and all he knew was that it felt so good, for once, to have something funny happen to him.

Also, I realized I haven't been putting Author's Note or Disclaimer or anything in my work, so I decided to add it in here.

First off, all characters, settings and (for the most part, because I'm considering making up my own) spells are the property and brainchild of wunderkind J. K. Rowling, without whom this wouldn't be here. Lyrics, too, to Journey/songwriters Neal Schon, Jonathan Cain and Steve Perry.

Secondly, I'd like to thank those who have Favourited and added my story to their Story Alert subscriptions. As a brand-new 'published' author (and even if I was a seasoned one), the notification emails really, really made my day! I love you guys!

Love, too, to those who penned down reviews. _pobrediabla_, you were the first to do so and it really gave me hope that somewhere out there my words made people happy, so thakns for that! _rinanina101_ and _starfire478_, the same goes to you too! Thank you, thank you!

Words cannot express how happy I am about your reviews, Favourites and Story Alert subscriptions. (Do keep them coming! :))

I promise to keep updates going as fast as I possibly can, but exams are round the corner and I am trying to cut down on my break-time. Apologies in advance :(


	3. Chapter 3

_Strangers waiting_

_Up and down the boulevard_

_Their shadows searchin' in the night_

Midnight edged closer as Ron paced up and down. He couldn't stop thinking about Hermione, couldn't stop wondering where they had gone wrong. He had asked, alright. He had heard about how life at work was so stressful, and how she didn't know where they were going, how this was all going to turn out. He just didn't know why _knowing _was so important. Wasn't being with him good enough for her?

He remembered the days of the War, remembered all those nights going back and forth wondering if she loved him back. It felt like that now- only worse. Ron knew that he couldn't live without Hermione. Even if he ended this relationship, they could never go back to the carefree days of being best friends. That spark was gone now.

When he heard the tapping at the window announcing the arrival of the _Midnight Herald_, Ron was secretly glad. Maybe reading somebody else's news for once would soothe the burning.

xx

"Ginny."

In the dusky amber of her bedroom, the youngest Weasley spun round. "Harry," she said. Her heart leapt at the sight of him. "What's wrong?" For even in the dim light she could see his brows were furrowed, his glasses askew as if he had been rubbing the bridge of his nose, the way he did when he was worried.

"Can you explain this?" He crossed the room briskly and laid a newspaper in her hands. The _Midnight Herald_. Ginny was about to answer when she saw the headline.

**Wizarding world's Romeo and Juliet?**

Weasley was a decoy, say sources

"What?" Ginny scanned through the article quickly. It was merely fodder, the kind of publicity-hungry stunts that they were used to, but what drew her eyes was the large moving picture in front. A picture of Hermione and Draco Malfoy, in a dingy bar, smiling tentatively at each other. She stared at the picture, contemplated it, her feelings in a furl.

"Hermione would never use anybody like that," she decided, looking up at Harry and slowly drawing her arms around him. Moving closer, he buried his head in her hair as he always did, and groaned.

"I don't know, Ginny," he whispered. "Ron says they've been… having some troubles, and he says she hasn't popped round like she used to. Has she come back from work?"

Ginny could have laughed. Trust Harry to be so oblivious! It had been clear to everyone, even without the gossip, that Hermione and Ron were not what they used to be. But then her insides clenched again. Could she tell him? Hermione had trusted her not to say anything. But if she was in some trouble… "Harry," she began tentatively, "there's something I should tell you."

A very very short chapter, I know! It's not even long enough to be considered one. But while I tackle my exams and work out my messy plot, this's my offering to you as an apology for the long wait.


	4. Chapter 4

_Streetlight, people_

_Livin' just to find emotion_

_Hidin' somewhere in the night_

After their little encounter, Draco made away as fast as he could. If it wasn't bad enough that he had been fraternizing with a Mudblood, he had smiled at her, and let her pay for him! He was determined to do what he'd started out for, and that was to get on a train that would take him as far away from his world as possible. He went back to Platform 9 ¾ and, making sure nobody was around, attempted to get onto it.

"Damn!" He rubbed his shoulder where it had rammed against the brick-hard wall. Apparently it didn't let anybody in sooner than September the first. What the hell was he going to do now? Could he perhaps Charm the wall to let him in? He stared sceptically at it, fingering the wand in his pocket.

"Sir?" The blasted conductor was back again, and this time, he looked pretty serious. "Are you sure you don't need help?" The Muggle probably thought he was high on Firewhisky and couldn't find his way back home, Draco mocked in his head, feeling disgusted with himself for choosing such a stupid way to escape. Then again… if he was truly at the mercy of Muggles in this mad world, then perhaps asking a little question wouldn't hurt.

"How do I get on a train?"

"Excuse me?" The conductor was staring at him. Draco stared coolly back and repeated himself, though inside he was cursing himself for not choosing to fly off on his broomstick instead of coming here. Surely all Muggles couldn't get on trains by running into walls or they'd have been discovered by now. And there was obviously no train in sight.

"You buy a ticket," the conductor said slowly, as if speaking to an idiot. Draco frowned. Nobody spoke to a Malfoy like that! He was about to open his mouth to say so, when he realized a Muggle probably wouldn't understand the meaning of the name of Malfoy. They were, after all, Pureblood through all the generations, and had shunned the company of Muggles from the start. This he contemplated with a streak of pride, which was ruined by a sinking feeling when he realized that he was, in effect, on the run from his family and all their Pureblood relations.

"And how do I buy one?" he challenged, equally slowly. Cold grey eyes met bemused hazel ones, and the conductor shrugged.

"Go down there, and turn right," he said, pointing. "But don't push your luck. Dead of the night and hoping to get a ticket?" He chuckled and walked off, looking back at Draco occasionally as if sharing a private joke. Draco scowled after him. He could hex him from here… No, it wasn't worth it. But again, his fingers clenched around the wand in his pocket. It gave him a sense of security in a time when he didn't know what the hell was happening.

He followed the conductor's directions and found himself facing a little booth, where another Muggle was half-asleep, his head on the counter. There was a kind of board above the glass, which reminded Draco of the scoreboard in Quidditch games. The thought made his stomach clamp together painfully. He noted that the board seemed to be made of little boxes, which spelled out a name he didn't recognise, and next to it, 'BOARDING'. Wondering what this meant, he walked towards the counter and rapped the glass. "Excuse me," he said loudly.

* * *

"Thank you," Hermione said politely to the porter, who had helped put her suitcase up on the shelf. It wasn't very much, she could have done it by herself, but a little help was appreciated anyway. She was still shell-shocked from her chance encounter with Draco Malfoy back in the café. It seemed she could never escape the world of magic no matter how hard she tried, she thought wryly, thinking over the incident… Could it be possible? Could Draco Malfoy, the trio's top nemesis back in the day (excluding Voldemort, of course), crazy stuck-up spoilt prejudiced brat, have changed?

As the porter tipped his hat and stood there, a little portentously, his hands fidgeting at the sides of his grubby uniform, she shook herself back to her senses and dug in her pocket. "Thank you," she said again, clumsily depositing a few coins into the porter's outstretched hand, and sinking down into the worn leather seats once he was gone.

She had no clue, of course, about the _Midnight Herald_'s headline, but Hermione Granger wasn't the smartest witch of her year without reason. She had been the one to catch Rita Skeeter back in their fourth year, after all. She knew the press would be eager to jump all over her mysterious disappearance from work, and as for the lengths they would go to for a decent scoop, she could guess as much. Hermione thought it over very carefully, then stood up and peered up and down the corridor to make sure nobody was around. The other compartments had all been full when she boarded, but now, scant minutes to departure, the corridor was eerily empty. She raised her wand- a simple Unplottable Charm should do it…

"_Finite Incancatem_- hey, Granger!" Out of nowhere, it seemed, Draco Malfoy appeared before her. She screamed. "Shut it!" She looked at him, mouth agape, while he looked down and eyed her wand. "Constant vigilance, eh? I see you haven't forgotten that lunatic's lessons… Watch it," he said quickly, as Hermione came to her senses and pointed her wand right between his eyes, her own narrowing in anger at his jibe at Moody. "You can cool the curses," he told her. "All I wanted was a compartment all nicely to myself, because it seems bloody Muggles couldn't well fill the rest up fast enough and yours is the only one left." He peered inside and seemed relieved that no one else was there. "I guess sharing with a Mudblood is good enough."

She very nearly cursed him right then and there, but sounds from neighbouring compartments reminded her that it was probably not very good to be caught by Muggles poking what appeared to be a polished twig in the face of a very polished-looking gentleman. _If they only knew_, she thought grimly to herself. "Get in," she said, refusing to look at him.

Draco held his hands up and sauntered in. "Suit yourself," he said, and made himself comfortable in the window seat, propping his legs up and putting his hands behind his head. Mudbloods annoyed him to no end, but if he got to spend his time infuriating one and watching her trying to ignore him… well, some things were worth it.

Hermione gritted her teeth, cast the Charm and immediately plopped herself by the seat closest to the door, the furthest from him she could go. She crossed her arms and looked away. _Some things will never change_.

* * *

**I AM DREADFULLY SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES!**

**Basically what happened is that schoolwork caught up with me and then Tumblr and then I was too into others' fics and out of the writing bug to actually write my own. But then I read it again and all your lovely comments and reviews and decided that 'tis an Unforgiveable Curse-worthy crime to abandon fics which have received such warm support! Again I am SO SORRY for leaving everyone in the lurch, I've kind of thought out some scenes and hopefully updates will come faster this way.**


	5. Chapter 5

_Working hard to get my fill,  
Everybody wants a thrill  
Payin' anything to roll the dice,  
Just one more time_

"She did _what_?"

"I told you," Ginny repeated, biting her lip because she wasn't too sure anymore if telling Harry had been the right idea, "Hermione's been very stressed lately, and anyone could see all she needed was a short break away from everything!"

"Yes, a short break with Draco Malfoy is all anyone needs," Harry said dryly. He stood by the window, looking down at the bleak street below and running his hands through his hair.

Ginny came up behind him and put her head on his shoulder. "Hey," she whispered. "It's going to be alright. She's going to be right back. I promise."

"You promise?" Harry's voice broke a little, and Ginny couldn't help feeling like they were back at Hogwarts, and Voldemort was still at large, and sometimes it seemed it was all she could do to stop Harry from crumbling under all the pressure of being the Chosen One. But then Harry stood up straighter and turned away, and she watched him as he strode across the bedroom.

"I'm going to the Ministry," he said, "go tell Kingsley, owl the Herald and get them to Summon whoever sent in that picture. Draco Malfoy may be acquitted but there's no saying whose side he's on. If he's got Hermione, well, none of us will sleep well tonight." His jaw clenched. Ginny knew he'd sent an owl to Kingsley telling him to let Draco off all those months ago, but she also knew he sometimes regretted it. "Don't wait up for me." He shrugged on his coat, and with a _pop_, he was gone.

Ginny stood dazed for a moment in his wake and then, scrambling to her senses, ran for parchment. Where was Pig when you needed him?

* * *

Back in the compartment, Hermione was trying very hard to ignore Draco, who was still sitting with his legs up and now reading what looked like the Wizarding version of _Playboy_. The moving picture on the front greatly resembled Pansy Parkinson of yore, and it disgusted her.

At this moment a distraction arrived in the form of a very small, very recognisable owl, who crashed into their compartment door.

Draco sniggered.

"Pig!" cried Hermione, ignoring him and rushing to the door, where the little owl was hovering up and down, struggling with the weight of a small envelope. Her heart leapt despite itself. _Could it be Ron? Could he be sorry for everything he's done? _Then she remembered that Pig was no longer Ron's; he'd given it to Ginny ages ago, when his salary had caught up with his aspirations and he had purchased a large tawny owl reminiscent of Percy's. Swallowing, she took the owl back to her seat and opened the envelope.

A small scrap of parchment fell out. It definitely wasn't from Ron.

_Hermione-_

_I don't know where you are or what you're doing but you're on the cover of the Midnight Herald in some dingy pub with Draco Malfoy. I can't say if it's true or who has seen it but Harry has and he is already on the way to the Ministry and you know how he gets if he's worried about something. I haven't seen him this distressed since those Death Eaters were rounded up in January. He could do something rash._

_Come home, Hermione._

_G_

"Trouble in paradise?" Draco said sweetly from his corner. _If sweetness was possible!_

She ignored him once again, finding it surprisingly easy as she concentrated on the content of Ginny's letter. She was right, Hermione had forgotten how Harry and Ron would react when they found out she'd run away. She and Ron might no longer be together but the trio were still best friends.

Breathe. She needed space to breathe.

* * *

"Hey, beautiful."

Hermione screamed as a hand clamped over her mouth and dragged her to a dark corner of the dining car. Really, this had been a mistake, thinking they served supper at, what was it, half past one? There was no one in sight- unless you counted old Stinky here, Hermione thought grimly, sniffing in and grimacing. Her hand moved into her pocket and fingered her wand, but her mind quickly checked the instinctive action. Even _if _self-defence was an exception to the International Statute of Secrecy, she couldn't risk Ministry officials Apparating to the scene and recognizing her.

"May I help you with anything?" continued the lecherous voice. He was breathing down her neck, and from his hand Hermione guessed the unsuspecting idiot was a drunk in his sixties. She would've told him to scram, and fast, if he hadn't still had his hand over her mouth. (_God knows he would've done well with directions to the nearest washroom._)

"Hey."

An entirely new voice entered the scene. Hermione struggled to see in the darkness and was shocked to see a glimmer of golden hair. _It couldn't be_. "Let's be nice, shall we? Let the lady go," Draco said, very calmly. It was obvious the man was dead drunk. _No-class Muggle_, he scorned. Draco was old-school, and preferred to think of getting girls as a challenge. One had to be lucid, witty and charming- and this man obviously fulfilled none.

"You want her? Come and get her," the man said aggressively, pushing Hermione behind him and holding out his fists, rather like Ron used to do when he wanted to pick a fight with Draco. Hermione wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation she was in, but tried escaping instead- to no avail. The man grabbed her arm and held her where she was. "Not so fast, love," he growled.

_Wham!_

Draco's fist had landed rather neatly on the man's nose. With a little groan the man let go of Hermione's arm and landed on the floor, unconscious. Instinctively, Hermione leant over to inspect the victim, pinching her nose as she did so. "You shouldn't have gone so hard on him," she said softly, lifting one of his eyelids and peering at him, not daring to look at Draco.

"Speak for yourself," Draco grumbled, massaging his fist. "I thought you had a pretty mean right hook back in third year? Gotten soft, Granger?"

This retort gave her the courage to look up again. She scoffed. "Hardly. And I doubt you'd want to find that out yourself."

"Oh, believe me, I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied sarcastically.

Their exchange was almost friendly. Too friendly.

She rubbed her hands down on her jeans, levitated the man expertly and, casting a Disillusionment Spell on them both so no one would notice her, moved down the corridor. Draco followed blindly, not liking the fact that he didn't know where she was going.

"Could you at least give me a clue as to where you are? I don't have sixth sense, you know, and thanks to your bloody brilliant Charm, I can't tell where the hell our compartment is."

"Pfft," was the only response, and he had to content himself with straining to hear the tune of the Beatles' 'Yellow Submarine' all the way down to the driver's carriage.

* * *

**Yup, I rewrote it to be more in character. IDK about Harry, though, it's ironic that the entire series is written largely from his perspective but I still don't know how he'd react in these circumstances. Enjoy.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Some will win, some will lose_  
_Some were born to sing the blues_  
_Oh, the movie never ends_  
_It goes on and on and on and on_

Once the man had been successfully and quietly –for lack of a better word, dumped- outside the conductor's compartment, and they had made their way out of sight down to their own car, Hermione judged it safe to remove the Disillusionment Spell on her. Then, without even a single cursory glance at Draco, she stalked right down to their compartment, which had been Charmed so that only she could tell where it was.

She slid the doors open, then stood squarely in the doorway and eyed him fiercely. Despite himself, Draco took a minute step back. "Look, _Malfoy_," she said. Her voice trembled, but she reminded herself to be firm and stout of heart, or a journey with him as her sole travelling companion would be worse than hell. "Let me set some ground rules. I paid for your wine and allowed you room, and you saved my life back there. We're even. From now on, no jabs, no whining. We will act as if the other _does __not __exist_." It was, after all, what she had advised Harry and Ron on doing all those years in Hogwarts when Draco taunted them; she figured it would work as well even in such close proximity.

"If I had it my way, I'd have the compartment to myself, Granger," Draco retorted. "Do you think I want to share it with _you_?"

"Ah, we see alike on two points, I see," Hermione snapped. "_In._" She stepped outside to allow him to enter. As soon as he had, and she had recast the necessary spells on the compartment, she sat herself firmly down on her seat and started rummaging in her bag for some parchment to write back to Ginny.

_Dear__ Ginny_,

_Don't worry. I am perfectly safe here- I am taking a train ride, just for a little while to clear my mind. I met Malfoy at the café at King's Cross Station. _

Here, she bit her quill and wondered how to cast off the fact that she was sharing a compartment with said nemesis. Would she have to mention that at all? What if she just neglected to mention anything about it? Who would care to find out? She hesitated, then scribbled in a teeny white lie that nevertheless made her feel very guilty indeed.

_I don't know what he was doing there, though. I am assuming that the Ministry has let him off their Watch since Harry wrote that letter to them. Please assure Harry that I am really fine here. The fresh air is doing me good. _

_H_

_PS. If Harry is still worried, tell him to cast a Forgery Charm on this letter (as an Auror, I'm hoping he knows his spells!). It will prove that I am really writing this letter as you read it. I hope it will assuage his fears._

Then she stood up and looked around for Pig. It seemed that the miniscule owl had found its perfect nesting ground, on…

"My _trunk_, Granger," Draco sputtered. He was waving his arms rather ungracefully like a maniac, trying to chase Pig off. The owl, however, was sitting rather placidly still, staring at Draco and letting out the occasional high-pitched hoot. Hermione felt strangely like giggling, but figured it wouldn't probably be wise, given the glares that were coming her way. "I thought you set some house rules! No touching! Get your bezoar-brained owl off that trunk!"

"Come here, Pig," Hermione said calmly, refusing to answer Draco. With a wave of her parchment Pig hooted and flew off, landing on Hermione's wrist and then grasping her letter in his claws. "Off you go, back where you came from." She sidled past Draco, who seemed to breathing so heavily with indignation that he couldn't find anything to say, and gave Pig a little thrust out of the window.

Then she stalked back to her seat and sat down, retrieving her well-thumbed copy of _History__ of__ Magic:__ Revised__ and__ Advanced_.As she flicked to the chapter she had read last, she became aware of a set of deep grey eyes concentrated on her.

When she looked up, she found that Draco, rather comically, had an expression of aghast wonder on his face, no doubt at her cheek and the audacity of not apologizing for defiling a trunk that Hermione guessed had cost the equivalent of her whole year's salary. Nevertheless, she took great delight in saying acidly, "What?"

"Nothing," was the very sulky response, as he threw himself back onto his seat and picked up his lewd magazine once more.

Maybe it was just her, but Hermione swore she heard "House rules! Tchah!"

* * *

**OK, right. Author's note.**

I owe you all a chocolate cake with three cherries (wink if you get the reference*) if you have stuck with this story from the start. It's been months since I updated, but a lot has happened. As it is right now I've graduated from secondary school and am in the awkward in-between period where I am not very sure where my life is headed- much like Hermione and Draco! I know that the number of verses in the song limit my number of chapters, so as much as I wrote this Chapter 6 without any planning whatsoever, this heckcare spirit can hardly last me to the end of my days... or to the end of this story.

I did attempt nanowrimo, but it's been 20 days and I only have about 1000 words down. For real. I guess this shall be my first shot at a sustained long fiction piece- I'm usually much better at one-offs that don't explain how Hermione and Draco -spoiler alert!- fell in love (gotcha).

_* it's from the MOST BRILLIANT -or one of the most brilliant- dramione fics out there, not by me, called We Learned the Sea. it's on fanfiction . net. go search it and read it. it will CHANGE YOUR LIFE (from a shipper's pov)._


	7. Chapter 7

_Don't stop believin'  
Hold on to the feelin'  
Streetlights, people_

And so it went on, a monotony of mornings waking up to some prank or the other. One morning it was Hermione, finding the covers of all her books Transfigured to look like _Playboy _spreads; the next morning it was Draco, getting up early to primp his hair, only to find it a virulent shade of purple. And so it would have continued, until the morning that set them on a new course.

"Granger."

"Mm-hmm." They had split up the seats, one each, and suffered a night of tossing and turning on worn vinyl until Hermione came up with the idea of Transfiguring them into comfortable beds by night. A little _too _comfortable, perhaps; Draco frowned as he wondered how to wake her up without actually _touching _her.

"Granger!" He sighed. He was committed to peace, really. Aside from the occasional prank or two, he really liked to keep his distance. But she was asking for it. "_Aguamenti!_"

"Aaargh!"

Draco smirked as Hermione sprang up, bolt-straight, and looked around wildly for a moment before grabbing her wand from under her pillow. She murmured a spell which made warm steam issue from her wand tip, and started to blow dry her locks slowly and carefully, all the while with narrowed eyes which, he thought, augured his early death.

Still, he couldn't help watching. He sort of remembered he had woken her up for _something_, but there was something strangely mesmerizing about the way she systematically moved her wand up and down until all her bushy evil waves were their usual, bushy evil selves.

"Malfoy." Muttering the counter-spell, she lifted her chin and devoted the whole devil glare to him. He shivered. "There must be some reason you woke me up for, Malfoy, or have we sunk to new levels?"

"Right. Um, I was wondering, I had a question..." Draco trailed off, and stood up a little straighter. He couldn't falter in front of the Mudblood. He looked stupid, and he knew it. "I had a question. Until you started steaming your hair, which is really stupid: I mean, your hair already looked like a weasel's nest, why try so hard?"

There, that was more like his snarky self. Particularly the jibe about a weasel; he saw it made her blink hard for a moment. But he had no time to congratulate himself on his rapier-sharp wit; he had remembered his question, and barged on. "Where is this train heading? I don't know if you noticed, but we've rather moved out of the countryside. It's all strange land out there, Granger, and I don't really fancy being stuck in the wilderness." _With you for a companion, _hung in the air.

She raised an eyebrow.

"So Apparate, Malfoy. Or did you think I'd miss you so much?"

Dang. He was kind of hoping she'd realize that she, too, didn't want to end up in the middle of nowhere, and magic them out right there and then.

"The thing is, er, Granger, when the Ministry let me off, they put a Charm on me. I'm not ab- Apparation is an issue. Although why they didn't think of me being able to go anywhere I wanted without Apparating..." He scowled.

"Oh!" Hermione's eyes brightened. She hadn't realized that, actually; she didn't remember Harry mentioning that clause, and she wondered if he was aware of it. Certainly the loophole Malfoy pointed out was quite silly of the Ministry. "Well, I do believe we're headed somewhere in the Middle East. I've always wanted to go, their wizarding history was fantastic! I was so jealous when Ron got to go in our third year. I thought you'd be well travelled enough to recognise our surroundings, actually," and _she _deigned to frown at _him_!

The impudence. He struggled for a few minutes wondering how to respond to that without sputtering.

The truth was, of course, that he'd never really gone anywhere. Lucius was convinced that any wizard who wasn't pure-blood and British was inferior, and woe to them if they couldn't trace their bloodlines to the Malfoys. His mother, too, was concerned about "the air outside Wiltshire". But obviously he couldn't tell Granger that. Back in school, when any of the Slytherins talked about their summer holidays, his usual comeback was to ask if any of _them _had a summer mansion by the sea... but he had a feeling it wouldn't work here.

"I suppose not," she sighed, closing the silence for him. "I was always intending to return to England, anyway; I guess I thought I was just going to hop on the train ride home whenever this one stopped." She looked at him, and for a moment there was a frisson of understanding between them, a moment of _being _the same; they were in the same place, he realized, she didn't quite want to go back either.

Did he?

"I... I guess it's the same for me," he said gruffly, looking down and breaking the connection.

* * *

**Finals are finally (heh) over! So here's an 800-word chapter for you guys. I'm so sorry for MIA-ing so often... But Draco and Hermione are going somewhere on this one! Hope you like it 3**

**Review review!**


End file.
